Interstellar Roots
by nature-lover2003
Summary: Have you ever wondered exactly who someone is and where they came from? This is the story of a young extraterrestrial, who lost everything and has a complicated perspective on human beings. One part of him thinks they're friendly, the other has the opposite views. But who is he really? (Rated T for some violence, abuse, assault, and other dark themes, including death)
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Since I've never seen or read any story with XL Terrestrial as the main character, I decided to write one. I first came up with the idea when I watched an AMV on him, the song was "Break" by Three Days Grace. It was then I realized that when it comes to his origins, he's a blank piece of paper.**

**Anyway, this story will cover his reasons for coming to Earth in the first place and the reasons he became a student at H.I.V.E. Academy. Of course it'll also cover his abilities and I apologize ahead of time if I screw up, but it's a little difficult to research a fictional character no one really knows to much about.)**

**O***~*0*~***O***~*0*~***O**

Clouds covered the sky, ready to release a deadly coldness upon the already frozen ground below. Every living creature in the area had fled in search of shelter. It was an otherwise quiet and uneventful night, or at least it would have been it wasn't for the smoke and crackling noises of a spaceship engulfed in flames.

The spaceship in question, once a technically advanced piece of engineering, was now scrap metal. It wouldn't be long before it would be nothing but a pile of scrap and parts buried underneath a hill of snow. While the fire continued to burn, the snow began to swallow up the interstellar craft.

In the inside of the spaceship, in what used to be the cockpit, laid the unconscious body of the ship's owner. The body of a young, male extraterrestrial with cyan hued skin, two antenna perched upon the top of his head, and sharply pointed ears.

The smoke and flames had finally been able to reach the cockpit where the boy laid. Just as smoke was about to consume the entire cockpit, the boy began to stir. He groaned as he lifted his head to reveal large almond shaped eyes colored a bright, brilliant red.

The boy's eyes widened when he saw all the smoke around him. The boy struggled to stand, but his determination to live was so great, he was able to stand despite all the pain it was causing him. He banged on the cockpits glass in an effort to escape the intense heat, but the glass was far too strong. He suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe, it was as if the flames were stealing the air directly from his lungs.

His vision was starting to blur and his head started to feel like a raging storm. Finally, as a last ditch effort, he grabbed the piloting chair and using every last bit of his strength yanked the chair from the metal floor. He had no time to waste and threw the heavy chair through the glass. The impact created a medium sized hole in the glass; just wide enough for him to squeeze through.

He escaped just in time, an inferno consumed the entire craft and it exploded just moments later. The boy, now standing in the painfully cold snow, watched with warm tears softly streaming down his cheeks as scraps of the ship fell into the snow.

He looked up at the cloud covered sky and gave a salute. "Oida," he whispered. He lowered his arm, turned around and walked away from what little remained of the spaceship that brought him to the planet that was now his new home.

* * *

He had been walking for so long, he couldn't keep track of long it had been. The boy estimated that it had been a couple of hours, due to the violent keen winds and treacherous snow that seemed to happen every couple of minutes.

He had his arms wrapped tightly around him in a effort to keep a little warmed, but it did little help, especially since most of his clothes had torn when he escaped his spacecraft. He couldn't even feel anything from the calves down anymore, especially his feet, his shoes had melted due the fire's heat, so he left them behind. So now, here he was, walking in the gelid snow with hardly anything covering his chest, torso, and legs. So far, his new home was a living hell.

Normally his body would be able to withstand extreme temperatures, he couldn't understand why he was freezing to the bones. He figured that perhaps his species could only tolerate the temperatures of their home planet.

His home planet was called Soron and his people were called Tyro Yagon. It wasn't their native planet, which had been destroyed more than two millennia ago. The native Soronians didn't mind having them there, in fact they were grateful since they finally someone to protect them. Tyro Yagon wasn't the name of his species either, it was a name given to them by the Soronians. It soon stuck and became their permanent name, their original name now long forgotten.

The environment on Soron was a paradise compared to the boy's current situation. It was always raining and no matter what time of year it was, there was always rain. The temperature of the rainfall differed depending on the time of year, the warmest it had ever been was twenty-seven degrees Celsius and the coldest being eight degrees Celsius. More than ninety percent of the planet was an aquatic biome, fortunately both his species and the natives could breathe underwater and withstand the underwater pressure.

Soron itself was a planet on the outer stretches of the Andromeda Galaxy - the neighboring galaxy to the Milky Way. If you were hovering over the planet in a spaceship, you would never guess that it was a planet with very little solid land. It looked more like a gray, murky, possibly icy planet to anyone hovering over, but that was just because of all the clouds. Many would be surprised at how much life and water the planet can support and the above water buildings and cities. The size of the planet was somewhere in between the sizes of Earth and Saturn, so it wasn't a like it wasn't an unnoticeable planet, but it's not well known due to its near-isolation.

Just the thought and memories of his home world both warmed his bones and made his blood run cold. The only reason he left is because his world was taken over by the Sangtee Empire. He and his people knew that the chances of stopping them were near impossible. His species had very few powers, the only power that could possibly save their planet was Size Alteration, but only nobles and military personnel have the needed suit that allows such a power. He just so happened to be the youngest in a family of brave warriors, unfortunately, his suit was far too destroyed to be used.

The boy fell and hit the snowy ground face first, he clenched his fists and picked himself up. His entire body shook as he stood up, his legs especially. His legs were so numb to the point where everything from the lower thighs down felt nonexistent yet he continued to trek through the knee-high blanket of snow.

He continued to hike through the snow, collapsing more than a few times. It wasn't long before he saw what looked like a small town; with nothing to lose, he headed straight for it.

It took him only a few minutes to reach the town, he was hoping to find someone who would be more than willing to help him, only to find that it was deserted. This was evidenced by the fact that the only light was coming from a blinking street light and all the cracks and gaping holes in most of the buildings.

It was when he walked by a store with its front window cracked, but not shattered, that he heard someone singing…

_Spaceman, spaceman come get me_

_I'm not from this world you see_

_Everything's a mystery_

_Take me to my galaxy…_

The singing soon made a static sound, making the boy wonder where the source was. He pressed his ear up against the near frozen glass of the store and that's where he heard the static. He almost considered breaking the glass to see if someone was inside, but he was far too cold and weak to do so. With that in mind, he continued walking, considerably slower than before - if such a thing was even possible at that point.

He was out of that town within half an hour and back to the seemingly unending forest. He had been in the bitter cold for so long at that point both of his arms from the elbow down, both sides of his face, chest, and legs from the upper thighs down were numb. If it wasn't for all his shivering, he would've thought that more than half of his body was nonexistent.

He then saw some kind of large brown patch in the pure white snow. Curiosity and desperation got the better of him and he went to go check it out. He slowly walked up to the brown thing and picked it up, only to discover that it was some kind of cloth. The cloth was a little worn, but arguably in much better condition than his clothes. A gust of wind blew causing him shiver and, either out of habit or desperation, he wrapped the cloth around himself.

The cloth did little to keep him warm, but it was better than nothing. As soon as the wind stopped, he continued with his journey to find some kind of help.

His journey, however, was starting to make a premature end, his head started to feel dizzy, his eyes were starting to hurt and his vision was starting to blur and fade, and it felt like his entire body was starting to sway. It wasn't long before he collapsed and painfully fell into the snow. The last things he heard were howling winds and the faint, just barely noticeable sound of snow crunching before everything went completely black.

* * *

It was dark and he felt like he was moving, he couldn't tell if he was falling or being tossed amongst the soft yet violent waves of an ocean. He felt that his body was as heavy as stone, he couldn't move at all.

Just as he was about to give up and let these forces consume him, he saw a bright light above him. The light bathed him in it's warm glow and what felt like a huge weight being lifted off him was in actuality his strength and his ability to move returning.

The light grew larger and brighter, the boy covered his eyes with his forearm when his eyes started to burn. The light chased away the darkness and the boy realized that he was somehow floating flat on his back in the waters of his home world. He gasped and immediately swam down to see if he could find anyone.

He stopped as soon as he reached the underwater emergency shelters, only to find that they were all destroyed. His knees hit the soft sand and before he could wail and keen for the losses, he jumped up in shock when he realized that his knee was up against the head of a dead Tyro Yagon. He almost went into cardiac arrest when he recognized the deceased as being his eldest brother.

He then heard a rough voice from behind him say, "Vatahyk gyoe!"

He turned and saw two purple-skinned men swimming towards him at a rapid pace. They were Kreel - also commonly called Sangtee - warriors of the Sangtee Empire. He swam away faster than a flying fish soaring through the water from one island to another. The two Kreel, however, were faster than expected and were tailing directly behind him.

He hid behind a rock and tried to calm his nerves, but his nerves quickly spiked back up when he saw them searching around the area he was hiding. He then made a risky move, he made a quick dash for the surface. The Kreel noticed him and sped after the young boy.

Just a mere meter from the surface, the boy thought he was home free at that point, but one of the Kreel grabbed onto his ankle and dragged him back down. They restrained him and one of them held him in place, while the other prepared the weapon that would end the boy's life; just like the life of his brother.

The Kreel in front of him readed the electroshock staff in his hand; the boy cocked a nonexistent eyebrow. He was utterly confused by two things; first, why would they use a weapon that would only be strong enough to knock him out; second, why use an electroshock weapon underwater at all?

He struggled to get away from the Kreel holding him in place, he was able to break free from the strong grip for a brief second, only to be captured once again. He was utterly confused once again, these Kreel were in top physical condition, he was rather gangly and just slightly toned for his age, due to his family's background, and yet he was still able to briefly break free.

It was then he realized that it was all just a dream, a dream he had to wake up from. He continued to struggle and tried to clear his mind of everything. The electroshock staff just inches from his body, and everything started to change until it was all black once again.

* * *

The boy struggled to wake up and he wasn't sure if he wanted to, he wasn't sure where he could even be. All he knew was he definitely wasn't still lying in the snow.

After a moment, he decided it was time to see where he was and opened his eyes. His vision was blurry at first but it soon adjusted and he found himself staring at an unusual ceiling. The ceiling was various large chunks of flat wood stacked on top of each other on two sides to form what looked something like a point and a concave.

He could tell that he resting in some kind of room, but couldn't figure out where exactly. The room had a fair amount of various scents in it's air. One of them smelled just like the trees he had walked by, another smelled warm and sweet, he could pick up faint traces of blood, and the rest he couldn't identify. All of the scents almost made his nose hurt and nearly overloaded his other senses as well.

He was covered with a sheet the same size as his piece of canvas, but the material was thicker and warmer. He was resting on something hard and solid yet soft and comfortable.

He sat up to take a look around and when he did, he heard a voice behind him, "Good, you're awake."

He turned his head - causing him to briefly flinch in pain - to see an elderly man. Although the boy had never seen one, he knew that the man was a human. The man had wrinkly tanned skin, long gray hair loosely tied back, glasses, a red, blue, and gray button-up shirt, black trousers, and brown boots. He was holding two ceramic cups with steam coming out of them.

He sat down in a wooden chair right next to where the boy laid; the chair gave off a soft squeak when he settled on it. He handed one cup to the boy, who relished the long-waited warmth in his hands. He looked into the cup and saw brownish green yet clear liquid. It didn't appear to have any obvious scent, but he did enjoy the comforting warmth in his lungs when he inhaled. He wanted to know what it was and what to do with it, his first thought was that it was meant to be drank, but he wasn't sure if he should since he wasn't certain if the elderly man next to him could be trusted.

The man notices the look of confusion and uncertainty upon the boy's face. "It's okay," the man reassured, "you just gently blow on it and drink." He showed him by gently blowing away the steam and taking a sip out of it.

The boy did the same and tasted a spicy kick when he swallowed. After a couple more sips, he finally asked the man in slightly shaky voice, "Who are you? Why am I here?" He almost didn't even recognize his own voice, he never had to speak any human language to anyone but a few members of his family. Luckily for him, his mother had convinced his father to teach him and all ten of his siblings many different human languages. It had been a while since he had spoken in any human language to anyone, fortunately for him, he still remembered basic words and phrases.

The man chuckled, "Forgive me, my name is Antoine Redfeather." Now it was his turn to ask, "What's your name?"

The boy gulped nervously and tried to think - it wasn't like he had any type of memory loss or anything, he just didn't know how to translate his name. Finally after a couple of minutes, he answered, "Xilo."

Antoine gave him a grin that reminded him of his father. "If you're wondering why you're here," he started, "myself and my son-in-law were out hunting. We weren't having very much luck and were about to go home. Then we saw a brown cloth walking in the snow before collapsing. We decided to investigate and found you lying there unconscious. We decided to take you back to our home and nurse you back to health."

Before either one of them could say anything more, a little boy with long blonde hair ran up to them. "Grampy!" the young child exclaimed happily while running up to Antoine and jumping into his arms. Antoine chuckled lifted the child onto his lap. "Who is he?" he asked his grandfather.

Before Xilo could answer, Antoine beat him to it, "This is Xilo. Xilo this is my grandson, Ethan."

Ethan then began to bombard Xilo with numerous questions, "Why is your skin green? Why are your eyes red? Where are you from?..."

"Ethan," Antoine scolded softly, "that's enough. He'll tell you when he's ready, but let him rest for a bit."

A tall man with blonde hair wearing a thick jacket and tan scarf walked up to them and picked up Ethan from Antoine's lap. "There you are, you little monster," he playfully messed up Ethan's hair.

"Daddy!" Ethan exclaimed happily.

Antoine looked up at Ethan's father with a grin, "Tyler, you're back early."

"Yep, we are," Tyler replied, lifting up Ethan a little higher.

"Where is Yvonne?" Antoine asked.

"Right here, father," an attractive woman with lightly tanned skin and waist length dark brown hair wearing a dark sweater and red scarf answered when she walked up, standing next to Tyler and Ethan.

"Yvonne, Tyler, this is Xilo," Antoine introduced, "Xilo this is my daughter, Yvonne, and my son-in-law, Tyler."

Yvonne sighed in relief and placed a hand on her chest, "Oh, thank God he's awake. When my husband told me what happened it broke my heart."

Tyler handed their son to his wife and walked over to Antoine and Xilo. He knelt down in front of Xilo and asked, "How are you feeling?"

He didn't reply, but he did tap a finger on his head, indicating that his head was hurting. He wasn't sure if Tyler knew what he was trying to tell him.

Fortunately, he seemed to understand and asked just to clarify, "Do you have a headache?" Xilo nodded.

"Let me see what we have," Antoine stood up and walked out of the room.

"Anything else?" Tyler asked. He nodded and dragged his hand along his thigh, caressed his forearm, and patted his chest. Tyler's eyes bulged out his head, "You're just hurting all over," he joked slightly. Xilo just shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck, it caused only a little pain.

Antoine walked back into the room and placed a small orange pill in Xilo's hand. "It's just a pain reliever," he assured any confusion and sat back down.

"Take it with your tea," Tyler suggested.

He did just that and gulped down the rest of the cooled tea with the pain relief medication. After swallowing the last of his drink, he felt a sudden sharp, burning pain in his abdomen. He also had a sudden shortness of breath yet the pain in his chest was still the same.

He sat up as straight as he could, bent over to the side, and emptied what little was in his stomach, inadvertently crying in the process. A bile, orange liquid splashed on the wooden floor beneath him, but it didn't get on either Tyler or Antoine, despite how close they were to him.

"Sorry," he apologized, both embarrassed and nervous of his actions.

"He talked!" exclaimed Ethan.

Yvonne set Ethan down in a chair and cleaned up the liquid with a rag. "Don't worry, sweetie," she reassured when she finished.

Tyler stood up and walked out of the room, "I'll be right back."

"Are you alright?" Antoine asked as he placed a hand on his shoulder. Xilo nodded. "Are you sure?" he asked again. He just nodded again and said nothing.

Tyler came back with a transparent glass filled with a white liquid and something small and dry in his other hand. He handed them to him and he saw that they were shaped like squares. They almost reminded him of the emergency rations his planet's military would use. He bit into one and started chewing on it, it was very crispy and salty to him. It was also very dry, so he had to repeatedly drink the white liquid. The liquid reminded him of milk from a rock whale.

After he finished, Antoine asked, "Are you feeling any better?"

Xilo nodded, "Yes."

"He talked again!" Ethan ran out his chair and tackled the older boy into a slightly awkward position.

"Ethan!" Yvonne scolded and lifted up her son from Xilo's torso.

"We should let him rest," Antoine told his family.

"Okay," Tyler agreed and walked out of the room.

"Let's go," Yvonne followed her husband with their son.

"We'll be back later to check up on you," Antoine told the young alien as he stood up and walked out the room.

Xilo finished the white liquid and placed the empty glass on the floor. He laid back down and pulled the cloth draped over his lower body up to his chest. He closed his large red eyes and went back to sleep.

**O***~*0*~***O***~*0*~***O**

**(A/N: Ok, well, I personally think this is one of my better stories, but, hey, that's just my opinion. I apologize if I made a lot of mistakes, I did the best I could. I know Xilo's backstory before coming to Earth is a little vague, but I really did do my very best. I decided to put that he has ten siblings because XI - the first two letters in his name - is the Roman numeral for eleven. **

**Most of the few stories on him that I've read that have him as a character portray him as a cranky, human-hating alien. I'm kind of going in the opposite direction, for now at least. He's only interacted with three humans who accept him, but soon will learn the hard way that humanity is very judgemental.**

**Translations:**

1\. "Oida" (reverse spelling: Adio) - "Farewell" in Romanian.

2\. "Soron" (reverse spelling: Noros) - "Cloudy" in Romanian.

3\. "Tyro Yagon" (correct spelling: Royt Aoygn) - "Red Eyes" in Yiddish.

4\. "Vatahyk gyoe!" (correct spelling: Khvatay yego!) - "Grab him!" in Russian.

**Let me know what you guys think about it so far. Is there something I need to include or work on a little more? I would really like to hear this feedback, but if you say anything shitty, I won't be happy about it. If you have nothing good to say, don't say anything at all.**

**Happy Easter, everyone! **:) **This is the second story where I've said this, but whatever, I'll say a thousand more times if I have to. Again, Happy Easter!)**


	2. Chapter 2

**(A/N: I hope you guys really liked the first chapter and I hope you guys enjoy this one. **:)

**But before we get started, I should probably warn you that some time in this chapter, and others, XL will be both physically and verbally assaulted a lot later on. So, you might wanna stop reading this story if you're sensitive to this stuff, as much as it pains me to say. If you guys want to be troopers and brave what'll happen then be my guest, but consider yourselves warned.**

**That's all I really have to say. Enjoy.)**

**0**-X-**0**~O-V-O~**0**-X-**0**

Antoine had come back to check up on Xilo just like he had told him, but he was fast asleep. Not wanting to disturb him, he just left the room in silence.

He checked up on him again in about an hour and by that time, he was wide awake. Antoine walked up to him and asked, "How are you feeling?"

"No pain, I am hungry," he replied, his words were somewhat broken.

Antoine smiled and walked out of the room again, telling him, "I'll be right back."

He came back a couple minutes later holding some kind of red fruit. He handed Xilo the red fruit and he politely thanked him, "Thank you."

Antoine chuckled, "No problem."

Xilo bit into the red fruit a bit hesitated, he started chewing and was surprised at how crunchy and sweet it was. The crunchiness wasn't nearly enough to hurt his teeth, but bits and pieces would get caught from time to time. The sweetness was almost overbearing, but he was convinced that it wouldn't have much of an effect on his stomach later.

Before he knew it, he could see red seeds going around the center of the fruit. Suddenly, Antoine snatched what was left it from his hand before he could even finish swallowing his last bite. Xilo looked at him oddly, not understanding why he had done that.

"You don't want to eat those seeds," Antoine told him, trying to explain his actions, but it only succeeded in further confusing him. He notices this and not knowing how to exaggerate it, he just decided to tell him dryly, "Apple seeds have small amounts of cyanide, a very dangerous chemical, in them. I'm just worried that your body will react to it badly like with the ibuprofen I gave you earlier."

Xilo understood this of course and he was thankful that he had taken the apple from his hand. Truthfully, he, himself, was terrified at what all of these human foods and medications could potentially do to his body.

"Are you still hungry?" he asked. Xilo just shook his head.

Antoine was about to walk out of the room again, when Ethan ran in and started tugging on Xilo's arm, obviously wanting him to get up and probably play a game. "Come on, let's play!" Ethan shouted, both happy and a little angry, probably because Xilo was wondering why he was so persistent in getting up and out of bedrest.

Tyler walked into the room and dragged a hand down across his face. "Ethan," he sounded very stressed and disappointed, "this isn't what I meant by 'ask if he wants to play'."

Ethan let go of Xilo and turned to his father with a pout, "Sorry Daddy."

Tyler picked him up and smiled, "It's okay." He then looked at the confused alien and asked, "Do you want to play with us?"

Xilo cocked his side to the side, not understanding what he means by 'play'. But he decided to get up anyway. As soon as he tried to stand up, however, his legs gave out on him and found himself sitting on the floor.

"Are you alright?" Antoine asked, helping him to his feet.

"Yes," he answered, before starting a coughing fit.

Tyler placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, "Are you feeling okay?" He nodded in response, although he did not look at him, his eyes were glued to the floor, not wanting to take any risks in case he starts coughing again.

Then Antoine did something unexpected, he picked up Xilo and held him in a similar way to how Tyler held Ethan. He was surprised by this and briefly struggled to break free, but soon calmed down after he remembered that he couldn't walk anyway; his legs still felt numb.

All four went out of the room into a much larger space. Xilo was in awe of the new space that he had been carried into. He saw several small wooden tables, a flat, wide, black electronic on a wall, identical bedding to what he had been laying on, and various rugs and blankets that all appeared to be hand-woven. He turned his head and saw a well-lighted area that had a stone surface over a wooden rectangular structure and many rectangular and square shaped devices that looked like they were used for cooking.

He was carefully settled into a chair, thanks to some help from Antoine, who sat in an adjacent chair. Tyler sat in an opposing chair with Ethan in his lap. On the table in front of them was a brown and tan square pattern board with red and black circle-like objects on the board.

"Game?" Xilo questions, very confused.

Tyler nodded, "Yep, it's a board game called chess." He placed a finger on one of the flat, black, circular objects on his side of the board and moved it off to the side. Xilo did the same to one of his red objects and looked back at Antoine, who nodded, telling him that he was playing it the right way.

They continued to play for the next couple of hours, often times, Tyler would allow Ethan to play. After finishing the first round Xilo let Antoine play a round, but he was eager for it to be his turn again. He couldn't explain why, but he found these board games to be strangely entertaining.

It wasn't long before it he was his turn again and he greatly enjoyed watching Antoine beat Tyler and Ethan like a true master. Just as they started a new round, a large, gray canine started to sniff his leg and jumped up onto the table. The canine licked his hand and arm, then started to nudge his hand with its nose.

Antoine got up and stood behind the canine, he placed a hand on top of the canine's head. The canine leaned into the sudden contact and got down from the table. The canine got into almost a begging pose while laying on it's back on the wooden floor with it's long tongue sticking out. Antoine chuckled at the canine's silly position and started to scratch and rub its abdomen.

Ethan jumped down from his father's lap and exclaimed, "Doggy!" He got down on his knees and started scratching the 'doggy's' abdomen.

"Easy there, buddy," Tyler chuckled as he got up and stood in front of the 'doggy'. He then noticed how confused and almost left out Xilo looked. He got a little closer to him and helped him onto the floor.

Xilo looked at Antoine, pondering on whether or not he should do what they were doing. He just smiles and reassures him, "It's okay, Hunter is perfectly tame."

He lifted a shaky hand and slowly placed it on Hunter's abdomen. He was surprised at how soft and fluffy his abdomen was and suddenly found himself scratching and rubbing Hunter, much to the canine's delight.

* * *

It had been several months since Antoine and Tyler found Xilo lying in the snow and since then, he had become almost apart of their family. Antoine treated him like a grandson, Tyler and Yvonne treated him like a son, and Ethan treated him like an older brother and sometimes even went as far as calling him as such. He spent quite a bit of time as a playmate for Ethan and Hunter.

They took their time before asking any questions about him, his people, and planet, and when he was ready, so were they. He told them stories that his parents had told him and his siblings. He laughed at their reactions when he told them that he had ten older siblings. He told them about the various fauna and how his brother, Vilo, was digging sand out of his ears for weeks after he was slapped by the tail of a rock whale while attempting to milk it.

As soon as his strength returned, he made an attempt to find the area where he crashed, so that he could recover anything that survived the fire, but all he ever found was scrap. He was hoping that his family heirloom - a necklace that can increase and decrease one's abilities - had survived, but never found it.

He thought that things were going well for him, he enjoyed playing games with them and liked learning about Earth's various cultures and history. He liked helping them out with things around their home as best he could. He thought that nothing could go wrong.

However, he found out the hard way that not everyone was accepting of him. It started out innocently enough...

One day, he came down with something and none of the medications or herbal treatments they had could treat his symptoms. After a long discussion, they decided to take him into town to get checked out by a doctor.

And that's when all hell broke loose.

As soon as they got to the town, Xilo immediately began to notice all the odd and dirty looks he was getting. He almost cried when he picked up whispers of what they were saying about him, "What is that?" "Why is it with Mr. Redfeather?" "Where did it come from?" "I don't like the looks of 'em." "Stay away from that freak!"

He wrapped his arms around Antoine, burying his face in his side. He stops in his tracks and looks down at the sad, young alien. He gave him a reassuring rub on his shoulder and they continued walking.

They made it to a clinic and Antoine told Xilo to go sit down in one of the chairs while he talked to the receptionist. As soon as he did, he noticed some parents with their children leave their chairs and sit as far away from him as possible, making him very sad.

Antoine came to him and sat down next to him, some of the patients and parents of patients shot glares at them. Xilo tried to ignore them, he stared up at the ceiling and passed the time by tracing shapes in the small, gray dots.

Eventually a nurse came over and said that a doctor was ready to evaluate him. She led them to a room at the end of a hallway. She gave them a split second dirty look before shutting the door.

Xilo was unsure about how long they had been waiting, but eventually the doctor did come in. At first he felt a little intimidated by the doctor's height and tattoo of a bloody dagger going through a heart on his left wrist.

The doctor introduced himself, "Good afternoon, I'm Doctor Milovich, I'm here to examine you." He sat down in a chair and asked, "Now, what are your symptoms?"

Antoine answered for him, "He's been throwing up a lot lately, he can't sleep very well, he often claims to be dizzy and gets headaches many times throughout the day."

Dr. Milovich wrote down everything and said, "Well, that could be anything, it could be food poisoning, vertigo, or just insomnia. It could also be a virus."

"What does that mean?" Antoine asked.

"A virus is something that just appears and it doesn't go away," Dr. Milovich replied.

"It also cannot be treated," Xilo finally spoke, something he hadn't done since after he started vomiting after waking up.

Dr. Milovich was a little taken back by him talking, but brushed it off and cleared his throat, saying, "Right, so if he's not doing any better in the next few days, come back and I'll do some tests. Be sure he gets plenty of water."

Antoine nodded, "Come on, Xilo, let's go home."

He nodded and jumped down from the bed. As soon as did, though, he felt a sour feeling in his stomach and could already taste bile and bitterness.

Antoine was talking to the receptionist again when Xilo tugged on his sleeve. "What?" he asked.

"I have to go to the bathroom," he replied sickly, both arms on his stomach.

"Just back there," the receptionist said, pointing in the direction of the bathrooms.

He ran off, clamping a hand over his mouth and shoving the door open with his shoulder. He went to the nearest toilet and emptied out what little was in his stomach, it was mostly liquid.

It was starting to get far beyond comfortable at this point. He was practically hugging the toilet as he vomited and spit out what was left. His eyes watered the entire time due to the small blood vessels in and around them bursting. His throat was hurting from the acid in his stomach forcing its way out of him.

He was so focused on getting the bile taste out of his mouth, he didn't even hear the door open or whomever walked in. He thought he was alone until he felt a massive, heavily calloused and cracked hand hold his head down in the vomitus filled toilet bowl. Why his antenna didn't start twitching when the assailant walked is a mystery to him.

He struggled to get away, his hands on the tile floor and his feet kicked up while his knees were still on the floor as he tried to force his attacker off of him. No matter how much he struggled, his attacker applied more pressure to his head, forcing him so deep into the vomitus that only his antenna and the tips of his ears were the only things not submerged.

Under normal circumstances he wouldn't be panicking since he can breathe underwater, but the water in the toilet was contaminated with his stomach contents, which he can't breathe in. If he attempted to breathe in the water in the toilet it would make his already sick condition much worse.

He felt another hand on his head, this one wasn't nearly as big or as cracked but still heavily calloused. He then felt the bottom of a boot on his back and another on his ankles, he could no longer defend himself. The boot on his ankles felt longer and wider than the one on his back. The different sizes led him to conclude that there was at least two assailants.

Since his ears were mostly submerged, he could hear very little, save for the sounds of his own muffled grunts from his attackers punching his back and the back of his neck and the tainted water getting wild like an ocean from his struggles. He could, however, make out some of what his attackers were saying.

"How... fuck... son... bitch... alive?!"

"...fuck... I... to know?!"

"Drown...!"

"We... have... gov... here!"

Realizing what they were attempting to do and the motive behind it, he expelled the air from his lungs and allowed his arms and hands to go limp. As soon as his assailants saw that he wasn't moving, they left, but not before kicking his sides.

He lifted his head out of the toilet, deeply inhaling and exhaling while spitting out some contaminated water then cleaned up. He cleaned up his face and the floor with toilet paper and paper towels. He straightened up his clothes and hid the bruises on his face and neck caused by the toilet bowl. He flushed the toilet and walked out the door as if nothing happened.

When he walked back into the reception area, he saw Antoine and the receptionist still talking. He tugged on his sleeve, getting his attention. "You sure took your time," he joked.

He didn't appear to notice any of Xilo's bruises, which relieved him greatly. "May we return home?" he asked, somehow without any strain in his voice from the assault.

Antoine nodded and they left the clinic to return home; ignoring the whispers of the townspeople. Though, perhaps they should've paid closer attention, a tall man watched as they walked in the direction of their home. They walked right by him and didn't even know it. What they also don't know: he saw something that others did not.

* * *

Xilo kept quiet about the people who attempted to murder him, though he was certain that the family had their suspicions. In order to hide the bruises on his face and neck he wore a scarf. Whenever he was asked why he wore it when the house was fairly warm, he just said that he was cold or still sick, even though he started feeling better a couple of days after seeing the doctor.

Yvonne had suggested taking him back to the doctor, something he didn't want to do again; not at all. He assured her that he was fine and that he was just cold from all the playing he did in the snow with Ethan and Hunter.

The bruises that plagued his face, neck, back, ankles, and sides took close to two weeks to fully heal. The bruises on his back and ankles had left footwear impressions, it just showed how many risks the perpetrators were willing to take. As soon as the last of his bruises vanished, he stopped wearing the scarf and claimed that he had finally gotten used to the cold.

Even so, he often refused to go into town with them, not wanting what happened to him to happen again to him or the family. When asked, he would just say that he didn't feel comfortable being around so many people.

The incident had traumatized him to no end and it caused so much fear, he considered leaving the area for their protection, but reconsidered after he scared away some vandals.

Despite that it didn't mean that he slept peacefully at night, he often did rounds around the house every couple of hours. He would often go on with only three or four hours of sleep, worrying both the family and him. Occasionally, he would shine a flashlight outside and look for shoe impressions similar to the ones that were imprinted on his skin.

One night, after finishing a round, he awoke to Hunter barking and the sound of hard objects being thrown at the house. At first he assumed that it was just another hail storm until a gun went off. Hunter ran up to the window, jumped up and started barking and growling at the people outside.

The gunshot and Hunter's barks had woken up everyone and they all ran into the living room, where Xilo slept, and looked out the window. He joined them and when he saw two men out there with large pieces of wood, rocks in their hands, and one of them held a gun.

Even in the pitch blackness of night, he could see the same shoe impressions on the icy ground that he had memorized from his injuries. He narrowed his eyes and growled, he moved from the window and ran out the door. His anger had gotten the better of him. It was this anger that kept him warm in the cold temperatures of the outside. He wore only a pair of sweatpants and very old, thin socks with various holes in them. Although his skin was cold, it penetrated only the surface, and, internally, it felt like boiling water keeping him warm and giving him the freedom to move as he wishes.

One of the men smirked when he saw him, "Well, well, well, look who finally decided to come out."

They held up their weapons and pointed them at him. "We're gonna beat your ass unless you get outta town!" the other man shouted.

His eyes were now sharp like knives, "That is never going to happen."

"Well, then I guess you say 'goodbye' for the last time," the man holding the gun said, pointing it directly at him.

He cocked the safety trigger with his thumb and had his pointer finger on the trigger. Before he could fire the gun, Xilo rushed him and tried to grab the firearm from his hand.

"You little fu-" the other man lifted the wood in his hand over his head and was about to bring it down onto the young alien, but it never happened. Xilo grabbed his elbow and squeezed it so hard he dropped the wood and rocks he held in his other hand. The man's arm felt numb to him and it went limp as if it were asleep or broken. It was quite painful, despite the numbness.

Xilo and the man with the gun continued to fight over it. He had his hand tightly gripping the man's wrist, in hopes that he'll end up dropping it. But the man was much bigger and stronger than other and ripped his wrist from his hand. He threw him to the ground with his forearm.

He landed on his bare back in the snow and it was only then that he realized that it was freezing. Before he could pick himself up, the man with the gun put his large boot on his chest, preventing him from getting up. The man put so much pressure on his chest that he was certain that if it were any harder, his sternum would crack for sure.

He grabbed onto the man's boot with both hands, trying, unsuccessfully, to get him off. "Get off!" he managed to hiss, his voice very low, weak and almost a squeak. The man, however, didn't hear him or perhaps he did, but is choosing to ignore him.

He bit down on his lip while gritting his teeth and growled up at the man like a rabid animal. He gritted his teeth so hard to the point where small amounts of blood started to burst out of his gums like a flood. It also caused some blood to come from his lip due to biting down on it so hard. Some of it trickled into his mouth while most of it puddled into small pools on both sides of his face.

His blood, unlike human blood, is blue, but it's a very subtle, deep, almost midnight blue. It glistened quite beautifully as it seeped into the sparkling snow and the full moon above gave it almost a majestic look. Although some might consider it to be beautiful - as long as they didn't know where it came from - the two assailants, however, had the opposite view.

"Ugh! What the hell is that?!"

"How should I fucking know?!"

"Wait a minute," the man with the gun touched the alien's blood and started playing with it. "It's blood!"

"Are you sure?" the other man asked.

"Look," he lifted his boot off of Xilo's chest slightly then brought down roughly. Blood erupted like a volcano from his mouth as he felt the air being knocked out of him when the boot came down. He was certain that he now had a collapsed lung and perhaps a cracked sternum and broken ribs.

"Should we finish him off?"

"Neh, he's close to death anyway, besides, we can't leave any witnesses."

Xilo knew what that meant: they were going to kill his _family_! He wanted to push them off of him and tear them to shreds with his bare hands. But he couldn't do that; he wasn't strong enough.

The two men started walking in the direction of the house. It was a great relief to have the man's boot off his chest, or at least it would have been. His lungs felt like they were on fire and he was practically choking on his own blood. Even though there was nothing stopping him on the outside, it felt as if everything was stopping him on the inside.

He closed his eyes and cried, his tears streamed down from the corners of his eyes and mixed with his blood. The mixture was a river of what keeps him alive and what he lives for.

He felt himself standing up and walking away from the sounds of his family dying. He was no hero, he was a coward, a coward who can't do anything but cry and bleed to death. He could hear them, he could her his family screaming, calling out to him to save them. What was he doing to help? Nothing. He was walking away.

"Where are you going?" someone asked, it sounded very assertive and ghost-like.

"Who is there?" he asked, looking around for the source of the voice, but could see no one.

"Someone you know," the voice said.

"Who?" he asked, slightly louder and a little angry. Truthfully, he felt quite anxious and nervous.

"The one to be feared by only you," it said darkly and almost tauntingly.

He gritted his teeth, ignoring the pain, and shouted, "Show yourself!"

"I am here," it replied calmly, as if they were having a normal conversation.

"Where?!" he shouted angrily.

"Here." Black water erupted from underneath him, knocking him off his feet and causing him to fall on his back. A figure emerged as the water began to disappear and he found himself looking up at... himself.

"Why are you- I-," he couldn't find the right words to say.

"You will go back and save your family!" he ordered.

"I... I cannot!" he yelled back, he couldn't stop himself from weeping.

"Yes you can!" he yelled back in protest.

"I cannot!" he finally snapped. "Can you not see?! They are dead! I... I... I am a failure!"

"No, you are not and they are still living," he says in a much calmer and quieter yet reassuring tone.

Everything went black and multiple figures began to form around them in a circle. He immediately recognized twelve of the figures: they were his deceased family. His father stood tall and strong, he was extremely muscled and his growth suit and armor only helped to show them off. His mother was a beautiful, youthful woman who didn't let being a woman get in the way of doing what's right. His siblings were there, staring him down like they used too; all ten of them: Ilo, I'ilo, Ii'iana, Ivana, Vana, Vilo, Vi'ilo, Vii'iana, Ixana, and Xana.

Five more figures began to take shape, they were very easy to identify: Antoine, Tyler, Ethan, Yvonne, and Hunter. The five of them stared at him in a similar way to his parents and siblings. He wasn't sure if it was supposed to be encouraging or supposed to bring him guilt.

"They are still living. They are what is keeping you going!" He thought it was the other him saying that, but it was him. The real him.

**0**-X-**0**~O-V-O~**0**-X-**0**

**(A/N: Much darker than even I was expecting, especially the end. If you guys think it's not that dark, fine. It's just my opinion.**

**I originally planned to have the dialogue at the end in XL's native language (the language that I used in the first chapter), but I'm tired and didn't feel like translating all of it.**

**I did put quite a few references to the novel "Night" in this chapter. A warning ahead of time for those of you who are lazy, themes from that story are gonna be heavy in the next chapter.**

**Please don't start saying all these shitty things, I did give you a warning ahead of time, didn't I?! I really don't need another "Dark Secrets" on my hands. Speaking of, I was going to delete it on Friday, but I'm just gonna delete it either tomorrow or sometime this week.**

**The next chapter of my Scooby-Doo/Teen Titans crossover is almost done. I'll be updating either tomorrow or later on this week.**

**Before I go, Happy Father's Day!)**


	3. Chapter 3

**(A/N: Warning: If you are sensitive to things relating to the Holocaust, sensitive to racism, have been physically and/or verbally abused, and/or starved for a good portion of your life - you seriously don't wanna read the next couple of chapters. As in, these chapters are going to be very "Night" heavy.**

**Don't say I didn't warn ya!)**

**U**/V/**U**/V/**U**

When Xilo opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the house, he saw the door wide open and could hear the screams of his family. He tried once again to stand up, this time he was successful. He wasn't sure how exactly, but he figured that it could've been due to adrenaline after hearing their screams.

He ran into the house, not thinking of what could potentially happen to him, ignoring the pain in his chest. In the doorway, he saw Antoine, Tyler, Yvonne, and Ethan all tied up and gagged up against the sofa. Hunter lay by window and he wasn't sure if he was dead.

The man with the piece of wood stared at him in shock as his jaw dropped, "How the hell are you still alive?!"

"Who cares how he's still alive, let's just finish what we started!" the other man growled.

Before they could even move, however, Xilo rushed them, grabbing both of their wrists in his hands. Both men's arms went limp before they even knew what happened. The numbness and pain caused them to drop their weapons.

The man who had tried to kill him with his boot still wasn't giving up, he tried to force him out the door, but Xilo slid underneath him thanks to his small, slim body. He jumped up behind him and kicked him out the door.

The other man looked flabbergasted at what had just occurred. His shocked face quickly grew scared when he glared at him with his eternal blood red eyes and growled at him like a wild beast. He ran out the door and dragged his friend away into the woods.

When they were out of sight, Xilo quickly rushed into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. He freed all of them by cutting the ropes.

They removed the tape covering their mouths and immediately began with their questions.

"Are you okay?"

"Who were those guys?"

"Why did they want to kill you?"

"Did they hurt you at the clinic? Is that why you were acting so strangely?"

"I am alright," he replied after what felt like a prolonged period of silence.

"No, you're not," Antoine argued. "Look at you, you're bleeding from your mouth, you're covered with your own blood and bruises!"

"I will be fine," he insisted, walking away from them and kneeling down in front of Hunter. He put his hand in front of his nose, he felt happy when he felt Hunter breathing on his hand, but he did not smile or show any emotion other than anger.

"Is he-?" Yvonne asked, holding her son while in her husband's arms, cutting herself off with her own choking sobs.

"He is alive," Xilo replied, but did not look at them.

Antoine gently placed a hand on his shoulder, "She was asking about you. Come on, let's get you to a doctor."

"And Hunter to a vet," Tyler added.

He didn't not look at them nor did he respond, the problem was: he didn't know why. He had just saved their lives and he should be happy, but instead he was full of rage. But why? He didn't know.

"Save Hunter, I will be fine," he told them a little quietly still not looking at them. His blood was boiling and it took everything in him not to growl or snap at them.

He expected them to just leave him be and take Hunter to get treated, but what he didn't expect was Antoine roughly grabbing his arm and turning him around. "You're not okay! You need help, you could bleed to death if you don't get treated!"

He narrowed his eyes and growled while painfully gritting his teeth, he tightly clenched his fist, but calmed down and relaxed his fist. He decided not to make things worse and reluctantly agreed to go get his injuries treated.

* * *

All of them went into town and split up once there. Tyler took Hunter to a veterinarian, Yvonne and Ethan went to the police station, and Antoine and Xilo went to the hospital.

Antoine and Xilo made it to the hospital just as the light from the sun started to break over the horizon. Xilo sat in a chair and Antoine talked to a nurse. As soon as a passing by doctor saw Xilo's bloody condition, he called for the nurse talking to Antoine and a couple of others to get him on a garney and rushed him into the Emergency Room.

"I'm Doctor Elijah Azazel. Where are you feeling the most pain?" the doctor asked.

"Respiratory," he managed to choke out after feeling a small amount of blood trying to leak out of his mouth.

Dr. Azazel pressed a stethoscope onto Xilo's chest. "Breathe in," he told him and he did as he was told, "Breathe out." When he exhaled, however, he coughed and a long, thin trail of blood shot out of his mouth. The blood trail went from his right pectoral, skimmed the doctor's lab coat, and stopping right at his ankle.

Dr. Azazel called out to someone, "Let's get him a CAT scan!"

He was taken into a room where there was a large round machine with a large hole at the center and a long, narrow metal bed that led into the machine. He knew what CAT scan was, but he had never seen the machine before and it made him a bit nervous.

"Are you feeling nervous?" Dr. Azazel asked. He looked up at him and nodded. "Don't be scared, you're in good hands."

He wasn't sure why he should trust him, but he did. Dr. Azazel was at least a decade older and appeared to be much more experienced than Dr. Milovich. Maybe that's the reason why he felt much more relaxed around him or perhaps he was just very tired. He did feel badly fatigued, he wanted to fall asleep, but the pain throughout his body, especially in his chest, flowed like a river of rocks.

They put him through the machine, while Dr. Azazel monitored him and observed the results on a computer along with a radiologist. When it was all over, Dr. Azazel came up to him and told him, "You're body seems to be healing itself at an astounding pace! In all my years, I've never seen anything like this!"

"My species possess accelerated healing abilities," he replied.

Dr. Azazel furrowed his eyebrows and wrote something down on a clipboard one of the nurses had brought him. "Interesting."

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

He looked up from the clipboard and quickly reassured him, "Don't you worry, my young friend, everything is fine."

"When can I leave?" he questioned. "I am not feeling as much pain as before." It wasn't a total lie, but he just really wanted to leave the hospital as soon as possible. Although, he was conflicted on whether or not he should go back to the house.

"Very soon," he answered. "I just want to run some additional tests and you can go."

* * *

Xilo wasn't exactly sure how many tests they had conducted on him, but he did know that most didn't take very long at all. He knew what some of the tests were: X-ray scan, ultrasound, urine test, and even a blood test, but he wasn't sure what others were. Many of the tests were... unusual, to say the least, and he wasn't even sure why they needed so many if they already knew that his body was healing itself with each passing second.

When they were done, one of the nurses took him to the front of the hospital in a wheelchair with Dr. Azazel at his side. Antoine stood up from a chair as soon as he saw them and asked, "Is he okay?"

"He's fine and he's healing extremely well," Dr. Azazel responded.

"Is there anything that maybe I should be aware of or concerned about?" he asked again.

"Just make sure that he gets plenty of rest and he should be fine," he assured.

He nodded, "Alright. Come on, let's go home, Xilo."

The young alien nodded and stood up from the wheelchair, the pain in his body had long since disappeared. They walked out together, but not before Antoine gave a slight wave and Xilo gave a small, thankful grin.

Dr. Azazel returned their kind gestures by beaming at them. However, as soon as they were out of sight, his smile turned into a very serious scowl, he furrowed his brows, took off his glasses and pocketing them. He took out his cell phone and pressed a couple of buttons with his thumb.

A deep, robotic voice coming from the phone said, _"Good work, Doctor."_ The screen went black for a split second, then a grid with a blinking red dot appeared. The dot was moving; it was moving in the direction where Xilo and Antoine were walking.

* * *

The two returned to the house, everybody else was already there. Tyler was in the kitchen drinking coffee, Ethan was taking a nap in his bedroom, Yvonne was on the sofa, a now bandaged and sleeping Hunter was at her side.

Antoine, Tyler, and Yvonne were glad that Xilo was alright, but they spent quite a bit of time scolding him and telling him that what he had done was very stupid and reckless. He sat and listened to them for the most part, but grew tired and fell asleep in an armchair. They didn't even try to wake him up or keep him awake and just let him rest.

He woke up sometime later, but saw no one around, save for Hunter, who was still asleep on the sofa. He stood up and walked into the bathroom, walking past Hunter on the way and petting him. He nearly fell over when he turned the lights on, they were far too bright for him to handle and having large eyes didn't help. He blinked multiple times and stood straight when his vision was no longer blurry.

His eyes had watered slightly, but it was primarily pooled around eyes, save a couple of thin trails that dried up quickly. He simply dried them off and washed his face to get rid of the tears that had dried.

He stared at his reflection in the mirror, but he didn't even recognize himself anymore. He had changed so much since the Kreel had taken control of Soron. His eyes were much sharper than he remembered, his skin was a little more light blue than cyan, and his height, how he had grown from being four feet eight inches tall to just over five feet! He wasn't even ten-years-old yet and he was already starting to look so much like his parents and siblings.

He put his hands on the black and white marble countertop on the vanity, his head was down, and he was weeping. Why? Why did this seem to happen over and over again? He couldn't even give an answer to himself.

His antennae twitched slightly when the front door opened, he shot his head up, and dried his tears away. He was about to walk out of the bathroom, but instead turned out the lights and listened in when he heard them talking.

"Antoine, I'm sorry, but I just can't live like this anymore!"

"Me either, those men at the police station almost threatened to call social services and take Ethan away!"

"The vet said that he didn't believe what happened to Hunter was true and I had to talk him out of calling the police!"

"Grampy, I don't like seeing Mommy and Daddy sad! I want him gone!"

"Please, everyone, calm down, we have to think about this."

"No! We don't! I wish we never found at all and just let him die!"

His face dropped, he locked the door, slid down the bathroom door, sat on the floor and cried. He pulled his legs to his chest, wrapping his arms around them. He buried his face in his knees and sobbed, not really caring if it was loud and noticeable. If they did hear him, they didn't even bother to go check on him.

That was the last straw, he was leaving them, forever, that very night.

* * *

Before long, night fell, everyone, except for Xilo, was asleep in the pitch black home. He had tried to get some sleep and even reconsidered in his decision to leave, but quickly changed his mind. He knew that they didn't want him in their lives anymore, and he wasn't going to protest. The entire town wanted him gone from the moment they laid eyes on him.

He spent hours wiping away any and all evidence that he had been living there from anything and everything he had been in contact with. He couldn't remember everything he had been in contact with, but cleaned the surfaces of everything that he could.

After he finished cleaning up, he threw on pants, a shirt, a sweater, a jacket, a scarf, multiple layers of socks, and a pair of boots. He grabbed a canteen from the kitchen and filled it with water. He screwed the top back on and placed it inside his jacket.

He took a matchbook from a drawer, gathered together every piece of clothing he had ever worn and went outside. He grabbed a metal trash bin, walked a good three hundred yards from the house. He took the top off, threw the clothes into the bin, lit a match and threw it onto the clothes. When the flames grew larger, he tossed the matchbook into the bin as well.

When he could no longer see anything inside, he used the top to shovel snow onto the flames. When the flames died down, nothing but ash and burnt pieces of cloth no bigger than a metal bolt remained.

He put the top back on and dragged it northwest of the house. He walked about a thousand or so feet to the top of a small hill, where a partially frozen-over pond laid at the base. He made sure the top was securely on before putting it down on its side and kicking it down the hill into the cold water below. He stayed and watched until the trash bin sank.

He went back to the house and kept an eye out for anything he might have dropped. He went inside, grabbed a bag from the closet and stuffed it with items that he wanted or needed to take with him. Those items were nothing more than a couple of blankets, his piece of canvas, a flashlight, some coins and paper currency he found lying around on the floor, medical tape, tilapia pads, and a lighter. He had originally planned to take some food with him, but that would only give them all the more reason to hate him.

He stroked Hunter's soft fur one last time and whispered, "I hope you heal well." He slung his bag over his shoulder, opened the door and walked out. "Goodbye forever."

* * *

He walked for miles trying to find some place where he could accepted, but his hopes weren't up. Because of all the clothing he was wearing, he didn't feel as cold as he did when crash landed, but he was still freezing.

He had been with Antoine and his family for roughly about five to six months and the weather never seemed to change. He soon found out why: the area where they lived was in sub-arctic conditions, which meant that it was freezing for most of the year.

The sun was just beginning to rise in the East, he was traveling South. He wasn't sure how far he would be going, but he wanted to get as far away from the Redfeather family as possible.

His legs and feet were both throbbing and shivering. Throbbing because of how long and far he had been walking. Shivering because he was walking in snow that went to his ankles.

Wind started to blow in from the West and he shivered slightly, but it didn't stop him from moving forward. The wind wasn't nearly strong enough to knock him down and he wasn't going to allow it.

An hour or so later, clouds began to roll in and the snow that had been sparkling a beautiful golden color was now darkened and dull. He knew from experience that clouds usually didn't mean anything good and knew that he needed to find shelter. He just hoped that it wasn't a home with a family, that was the last thing he needed or wanted to see.

Not much longer later, he spotted something dark and rectangular in the distance. The wind blew again and it was getting stronger and colder. He ran towards it, but when he was a mere meter away, he tripped over something metallic. His boots protected his feet, but nothing was protecting his hands and he accidentally cut them on the metal. He looked down at his cut up hands and scowled.

He looked up at the rectangular object and saw that it was some kind of boxcar. He clenched fists and stood up, ignoring the burning pain in his palms and fingers. He climbed up into the boxcar through a small opening.

He covered his nose and mouth almost as soon as he got on. It smelled like a rotting corpse laying on top of a pile of feces and vomitus. The smell was so overwhelming that his eyes watered and vision started to blur.

He got out his lighter and lit it, shining it all over the inside of the boxcar. It was full of wooden crates, up against the wall was a very obese middle-aged man. He was asleep and was snoring very loudly.

He looked in an area where it looked like feces had recently been cleaned. Another stain right next to it was a bile color where vomitus appeared to have either been cleaned or scraped up.

The boxcar slid open, causing him to nearly jump out of his skin and drop his lighter. A figure climbed in with items in its arms.

"Who are you?" a young male voice asked.

Xilo bent down and picked up his lighter, lit it and saw that the figure was a young man in his late-teenage years. He was a funny looking guy with hair identical to the color of a carrot, eyes as grey as clouds on a stormy day, freckles scattered all over his face and some were in visible areas on his neck, and glasses. He wore a disheveled plain white polo shirt with a blue and brown plaid sweater vest, his trousers were damp and dirty, and his shoes were no better.

He dropped the items he held and asked again, "Are you an alien?"

He nodded, "Yes, I am."

His jaw dropped then brightened up and he grinned, "Incredible!" He came up to him and grabbed his hands, "My name is Aaron Rolby. I've been trying to tell people that aliens exist for so many years now! You have no idea how excited I am! Tell me, where do you come from? What's your planet like? What are your people-" He was cut off by a glass bottle being thrown at them. They dodged and didn't get hurt.

"Shut the fuck up already!" the obese man snapped. "Give me my goddamn food already!"

Aaron scowled and kicked back some of the items he had with him into a corner. He then gave a powerful kick to the rest of the items and some hit the man in the head.

The man extended his middle finger at them. Aaron rolled his eyes at the gesture, but Xilo raised a nonexistent eyebrow having not knowing what it meant. And it was then that he noticed that the man's hands were like that of a canine's paws.

"Don't mind him," Aaron told him. "That's just Jacob, he's a selfish pig." He picked up the items from the corner and dragged Xilo to an area partially hidden by crates across from Jacob.

He noticed some jagged, vertical marks in the wall that appeared to have been made by some kind of knife. He dragged his hand across the marks and asked, "What are these?"

"Oh, each day I leave a mark on the wall," Aaron replied. "Each mark means one day."

He counted the marks, "You have been here for nine days?"

"No, longer than that," he responded. "I move from train to train so that I can get to where I want to go."

"Where are you going?" he questioned, curiously.

"I'm going to Montreal to see my girlfriend. I want to get there before the rock festival." He poured a little water into a plastic bag and stirred it around with a plastic spoon. "Here," he handed him the spoon he was using.

He used the spoon to scoop out whatever was in the bag. It appeared to be some kind of grain. "What is it?" he questioned, a little wearily.

"Don't worry, they're just oats," he assured. He picked up a different plastic spoon and took some of it. He ate it as if to show him that it was safe to eat.

He started eating it as well. The oats didn't really have much taste, but they were definitely quite hearty, after just one bite, he was already feeling a little full.

After a couple more bites, he had eaten enough and let Aaron finish it. But instead of finishing it, he sealed it up and put it behind a crate.

"Why did you not finish?" he asked.

"Let's just say, Jacob's nose is like a blood hound's and would eat the rest before you could blink," he answered.

**U**/V/**U**/V/**U**

**(A/N: I'm sorry if this is a little short, but I just had to get this done. So if it's a little rushed, sorry, but you what it's like to be busy.**

**In case you guys don't know, the name 'Azazel' roughly translates to 'Angel of Death'. For those of you familiar with Nazi history, you know exactly who he takes inspiration from. Dr. Azazel will be making a lot of appearances in future chapters. His character is a lot like Dr. Mengele in the sense that he was known to be quite charismatic. Dr. Milovich, however, he has nothing to do with anything that happened in the last chapter or future ones. **

**Dr. Azazel was not the mysterious man in the last chapter, but the man is a primary foe of the Titans. I really don't need to say much more.**

**My birthday is coming up, so updates will be a little slow. I will be updating on either my birthday or the 4th of July.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**(A/N: If you didn't read what I said in the last chapter, then that's your own fault. In addition to "Night" references, this chapter will get very dark later on. If you haven't figured out who the mystery man from chapter 2 is, then (no offense) you guys are just dumb. I think that the man is fairly obvious and I did flat-out say that he was a primary foe to the Titans. The reason why I say this is because the man will appear sometime in this chapter.)**

V-X-V-X-V

Several minutes after the two young boys set aside their oats, Jacob had eaten every crumb he had been given and fell into a deep sleep, greatly relieving Aaron. He was not just relieved, but almost ecstatic that the pig of a man was practically out cold.

It was when Aaron was asking him a question about his home planet that he realized something very important, "Oh, I'm sorry, I never asked you your name!"

"Xilo," he replied.

"If you don't mind me asking, what does your name mean?" he questioned, curiously.

He took in a deep breath and explained, "The letters 'X' and 'I' make up the Roman numeral for eleven and 'lo' means 'child' or 'birth'."

"Oh, I get it. So does that make you the eleventh child?" he questioned again. He nodded in response. "Wow, that's a lot of kids!"

Xilo said nothing; he rubbed his throat when he felt a slight soreness. He took out his canteen, unscrewed the top and took a drink. He let out a very soft and barely noticeable moan as he felt the water sooth the pain and wash away the dryness in his throat.

Aaron gasped and yanked his hand off the canteen when he saw a blue smear in the palm of his hand. "What happened to your hand?!" he asked, very concerned.

"Blood," he answered calmly and showed him his other hand, which had the same blue smear. He had forgotten all about the cuts on his hands, he just didn't feel like he needed to remember, he heals quickly and the blood was already dry.

"Blood?!" Aaron cried, "How did you get blood on your hands?!"

"I fell," he answered simply. "You need not worry about it, my body heals quickly."

He then felt a sudden movement and stood up to look outside. They were moving, they were moving slowly, but then they started to go faster and he fell to the wooden floor as a result.

Aaron came over and helped him up, "Are you okay?" He nodded. "Great," he led him back behind the crates.

They continued with their conversations for at least another hour or two until Xilo let out a prolonged yawn. His head felt heavy and he could almost feel a sharp, pounding pain.

"Tired?" Aaron questioned. He nodded and yawned again. "Okay, I'll leave you alone."

He laid his head down on his bag and closed his eyes, allowing the darkness to consume him. Within seconds he was in a deep sleep.

* * *

He awoke several hours later, noticing that the boxcar was much brighter and warmer on the inside. He assumed that the change in the lighting and temperature had something to do with the time of day and that it was most likely around the afternoon hours.

He looked around and saw Jacob still asleep with the leftover scraps Aaron had brought him now starting to spoil. He grimaced at the sight and smell and wanted to vomit.

He looked over at his friend and saw him etching something on the floor. He couldn't see what it was and decided to ask out of curiosity.

"What are you doing?" he questioned in a curious yet tired voice.

He looked at him in surprise before replying, "Oh! You're awake. This is supposed to be a carving of my best friend, he died while studying abroad in Italy about four years ago."

"I am…" he couldn't find the right word to say, "...sorry?"

He shook his head and smiled, "Don't be, he was a very good friend, but he was a real jerk to a lot people, even me."

"He makes me think of my siblings," he gave a small smile.

"I never asked you, but how long have you been on Earth?" he asked.

He thought for a second, "Five months."

"Oh, so you haven't been here for very long," he inferred. He shook his head.

He felt a sudden sour feeling in his stomach and it rumbled. A wave of nausea and dizziness suddenly consumed him, it was almost like a slap in the face and it was nearly overpowering him. He stood up, stumbled to a corner and emptied out the contents of his stomach.

Aaron came up behind him and put a hand on his back. Bad memories from weeks earlier flooded his mind, he turned around mid-way through more vomit coming out of his mouth and pushed him back close to the area where Jacob was. The vomitus spewed at least five feet across the boxcar wall and was already starting to drip onto the floor; it was also all over his clothes as well. The entire boxcar smelled like vomit.

If things weren't already bad enough, throwing Aaron towards Jacob awakened the massive lump of a man. He grabbed Aaron, who was also covered in vomit, by the front collar. He then came over to the now scared young alien. His massive body giggled and the entire boxcar shook, as if the train tracks were gone and the train itself was moving over a field of rocks, with each step he took.

He picked up the frightened alien by the front of his jacket. "That's it! I'm done with you two! Say goodbye!" he said as he held the two boys over the train tracks.

Aaron was silently praying to God that he would not get away with it. As luck would have it, He listened.

The train stopped abruptly at a station. The momentum from the sudden stop caused Jacob to lose his footing. He dropped them and they landed safely on the floor, his leg then gave out and he fell head-first onto one of the crates, he was instantly out-cold.

They quickly got up from the floor and rushed to quickly gather their things. They had to be sure that nothing was left behind.

Xilo closed his bag after making sure he had everything. "Let us evacuate."

Aaron nodded and they were about to leave, when he paused in realization, "Wait!" He hastily took out two heavily used white wash cloths from his bag and tossed one to him. When he looked at him questionably, he hastily explained, "We have to clean up, we're covered in throw up."

He looked guiltily at him, "I apologize for striking you."

He waved it off and assured him, "Don't worry about it. You didn't hurt me."

They quickly cleaned up and evacuated the boxcar that was, quite possibly, a preview of the smell of death. They left behind Jacob and the wash cloths which were soaked with the stomach contents of the cyan alien.

Aaron headed for the station and looked at a large map of train routes. He looked over the map and looked for the route to Montreal. When he found it he nodded to himself and tapped on the train number with his forefinger.

He went over to the shadowy area where Xilo was hiding, to say out of sight. "I found the train to Montreal. We have to hurry." He nodded and stood up.

They rushed to the train, but they had to be extra careful or else the people on the train or at the station would spot them and alert the police. They passed by the old boxcar they used to ride in, to a different one. Their new mode of transportation was primarily metal, but the roof and slider door were made of wood.

They climbed up into it, inside were numerous boxes and crates, just like the previous one. There was no scent inside, save for the faint smell of wood, most likely from the crates, although Xilo did notice a small, teardrop shaped rust colored stain close to the door.

Just a couple of minutes after they got on, a group of seven people, including two women and one child, all carrying individual bags, climbed on as well. He quickly pulled his hood over his head and covered his face with his scarf, so that he would not frighten anyone by his appearance.

The eldest in the group was a man of fifty-five in a seemingly brand new black suit and a filthy oxford shirt with the top three buttons undone underneath. The youngest was a young boy of six in a red shirt with a black, large-eared rodent printed on the front. The child stood especially close to a large woman with long, partially greying black hair. The woman, who stood next to the man, was in her early twenties and had curly brown hair.

But it was the other three men that scared him quite a bit, no, they scared him a _lot_. One of the men was lanky, but not skin and bones, and was very sloppy in appearance. Another was slightly obese, had a scraggly beard and slash-like scars on his hands, especially on his fingers and knuckles, as if he had been in a knife fight. The final man was also lanky and had faint reddish purple and grayish brown dots on his hands and possibly elsewhere.

With small, light steps he backed into a corner. He backed into a pyramid of three crates that were in front of the corner he attempted to back into. One thing he thought was odd was that the top crate hit his shoulder blades, but he didn't have or want to worry about that. He lightly kicked away the pyramid and sunk down into the corner. He leaned forward and grabbed the crates, putting them back to where they were just a minute earlier.

Nobody seemed to notice him or anything that he had just done, or so he thought. The child saw him hiding behind the crates in the corner and waved at him, but said nothing to any of the others in the group.

Although he was obviously untrusting of the group, Aaron was quick to welcome them, "Hi there, I'm Aaron and this is…" he looked around for him, but couldn't find him anywhere.

"Who're ya lookin' for?" the eldest man asked. It was obvious by his gruff voice and prideful aurora that he was the leader of the group. From where he sat, Xilo could see that he had three rings on his left hand and two on his right. He could also see that the curly-haired woman had a ring on her left ring finger, leading him to think that they could have been married.

Aaron looked around for the cyan-skinned alien, but couldn't find him anywhere. The little boy was about to speak up, but Xilo shook his head and gestured for him to be quiet. He seemed to understand and didn't say a thing.

The group's leader asked again, "Well? Who were ya lookin' for, boy?"

He looked back at them nervously. He chuckled like an idiot before answering, "Nothing- I mean, no one, s-sir! I g-guess being alone for so long makes you a little crazy!"

The young alien frowned and felt bad that Aaron had to lie, but, in all honesty, he would prefer it this way. He had told him several hours earlier that he had friends and family waiting for him. If he went missing, he would surely be missed by many; Xilo had no one. His entire family was dead and the humans he thought loved him wanted him gone.

The train slowly started to move and everyone who was standing braced themselves for when it would start to gain speed. Before it could pick up any real speed, a man carrying a duffle bag suddenly jumped on.

The man was well-muscled and wore a relatively clean tan button-up, gray trousers in the same condition and sand-colored boots that appeared to have been worn for a long time, as they looked like they had braved the elements for almost a decade. What caught Xilo's attention the most was that the man had white hair, but appeared to be in his thirties, and wore an eyepatch over his right eye. His left eye was gray, the same color as either rocks or a clean blade. The eyepatch alone made him intimidating, but it was his height that really caught him off-guard. The man was easily in the six-foot range; he dwarfed everyone else.

He said nothing and sat down near where he was hiding in the corner. He sunk down further and curled up into a ball and buried his face in his arms when the man looked at him. He briefly looked up from his arms to look at him, but quickly put his face in his left arm when he noticed him still glancing his direction.

The man chuckled softly at the antics of the skittish and jittery alien. He looked around to see if anyone was looking in their direction, when he saw nobody looking he slipped his hand through the barricade of crates. He pulled the hood back, but not enough to expose his entire head, just the left side of his face. His eyes were tightly closed and he felt a long and rough yet surprisingly gentle finger softly caress his cheek. He flinched at first but soon relaxed and leaned into the gentle touch.

The soft touch soon left and when he raised his hand to reach where that finger touched his face, he noticed some small red dots on his hand and wrist. His eyes widened, 'No,' he thought in a panic.

He rolled up his sleeves and gasped at the sight before him: his arms were covered with small red dots. And, unfortunately, he knew exactly what they meant and they didn't mean anything good.

He had learned that with his species when red dots start to appear on the body: it meant that his body was breaking down from the inside out. His body was breaking down because he was hungry. He had nothing in his stomach for his body to break down and absorb for energy so his body has no other choice but to start breaking down and absorbing muscle mass and fats to keep him alive. Only one problem with that though, he did not have very much muscle - he had lost most of it during his five months with Antoine and his family. With little muscle it means that his body now has no other choice but to break down his bones and organs.

Another thing very concerning, he would not be able to feel his body breaking down itself. He learned that a hormone would relieve and prevent any pain that he would be feeling, it's this hormone that causes the red dots on his skin.

And, unfortunately, it's only a temporary occurrence. It lasts only until he becomes a teenager and has better control of his endocrine system. The thing that's unfortunate about it is that it would become impossible to know if his body is breaking itself down. The red dots make it easy to know and pain reliever hormone remains in his system. In other words: he would have no idea what is happening inside his own body.

* * *

**(A/N: Warning: strong drug abuse implications, physical illness, mental health issues, and other dark themes including death coming up very soon. Stop reading now if you are sensitive!)**

Several weeks had passed since the group of seven plus the mysterious man had joined Xilo and Aaron on their train journey. He knew this from all the marks he had made on the wall behind him. Aaron hadn't left one mark in any of the walls, so he decided to start putting marks on the wall just so that he had a way to count the days.

In these past weeks, five people in the group - the leader, his wife, and the three men - had befriended Aaron and were always doing something with him. The things they did involved some kind of white power and dried up green plants. Whenever they did something with them, it caused most of the boxcar to fill up with smoke and it would cause their eyes to go bloodshot and they would often start dancing, often times naked. He and the young child would always either look away or their eyes would be covered. Although, he could hear some activities that he knew involved sex of all kinds.

He had learned all of their names; the leader was named Jerome, the young woman, Jerome's wife, was named Carla, the older woman, Carla's mother, was named Jordan, and the little boy, the son of Jerome and Carla, was named Alexander. The three men were associates of Jerome; the sloppy man was named Pierre, the obese man was named Julio, and the man with the numerous dots, which he later learned were actually scars, was named Kyle.

The mysterious man had said that his name was Slade, but everyone else doubted that it was his real name. Xilo was the only one who never doubted his name, possibly because they all thought his name wasn't real either. Then again, everyone, minus Aaron, Jordan, Alexander, and Slade didn't even think he existed.

Slade sat by him often and would occasionally give him a book to read, which helped him in remembering all the lessons his parents had given him in English. Jordan and Alexander would often sit by them because they didn't want to be around the others in their group and that's how they knew he was real.

He seldom left his hiding place in the corner, leaving only to defecate and urinate in the corner directly across from his hiding place when no one was looking or when the others were asleep. Fortunately for him, the boxcar was rather dark and the others were almost always passed out, so it was easy for him to leave his spot without having to worry about them seeing him.

He rarely ate anything and he was starting to feel and see the effects it was having on his body. His bones ached and stomach burned with hunger. His body was so exceedingly lank he could see every bone on his ribcage and the red dots had clustered in some areas, making those areas look like rashes. Despite what his body was clearly screaming at him, he still seldom ate and never asked for anyone to spare him some food.

He never spoke of any of his concerns and problems, most of the time he just kept quiet and read the books given to him. He often listened in on the conversations they were having with one another. Although some of the words he didn't understand, they were a great help in helping him improve his vocabulary.

The train made several stops while on route to Montreal. Jerome, Carla, their associates, and Aaron always left when they stopped and each time he secretly wished they would miss the train and they would be left behind, but they always came back in time. They always came back with more of the white powder and never enough food. The food they did bring was enough for only five or six people.

The lack of nutrients was not only taking a toll on him, but Jordan and Alexander as well. Jordan was a big woman and, with all do respect, she was used to eating larger sums of food; she even once said that she could feel her body mass shrinking. Alexander was a very small boy, he appeared to be behind in the growth curb, and the lack of food made him very tired.

Slade, however, never really talked much to anyone, except to ask Xilo if he needed any help with words he didn't understand, and never mentioned anything about possibly being hungry. He always wondered why he never mentioned anything, although he assumed that he might have simply been used to never having enough to eat. Although, based on the fact that he never really spoke to anyone unless asked a question, he assumed that he most likely had some kind of military training; something he was very familiar with.

Although he never said or requested anything relating to anything that can be eaten, he often asked them to bring him a couple bottles of alcohol - he later learned that they were bottles of beer - and things called cigars. When he first saw one of these "cigars" he at first thought they were palm-sized paper logs, he later learned that what was rolled up in the paper was tobacco. He often borrowed Xilo's lighter to smoke the cigar, something that he, without a doubt, found disgusting.

He found it disgusting because it not only pollutes the air, but it caused harm to the entire body, the respiratory, cardiovascular, and nervous systems especially. He often has to breathe in through the sleeves of his jacket. Slade often sees this and smokes only one cigar a day and makes sure to not be facing him when he lights the plus-size cancer sticks.

Many of these days could be easily forgotten, but there was one that could never be. Not without going through an equally emotionally traumatic event afterwards.

That day was like any other; the six "druggies" - as Slade once called them - were asleep after a long night of pleasuring themselves, Jordan was cuddling Alexander, who was in a deep sleep, Slade was drinking his second beer of the day, and Xilo was reading his third book of the day to get his mind off of the severe pain he was feeling in most of his organs. To most this would not be considered normal, but in these past weeks Xilo was beginning to think of this as his new normal and he hoped that this 'normal' would soon turn abnormal. He didn't know how it would go abnormal, but he would soon know and wished it happened a different way and with much less psychological torture.

It was around the mid-afternoon hours when Jordan voiced her concerns out loud and her voice cracked with sadness as she spoke in her broken English, "My little grandson, he is no breathing."

Jerome, who had been the first of the six to awaken after the previous night, asked roughly, "Whaddya mean he's not breathing?" He stood up and placed a hand on his son's throat. "He's dead," he said coldly with no signs of sorrow over the loss of his young child whatsoever. "We'll dump him as soon as we stop."

Jordan did not seem to agree with this decision, "No! We must pay respects to him!"

"What for?!" said Pierre, taking a large drink of a clear alcohol in a glass bottle. "What has that brat ever done that's helpful?!"

Julio, Kyle, and even Carla all seemed to side with Jerome. Aaron tried acting as the pacifist but he was clearly intoxicated and wasn't much of a help. Xilo didn't feel like he could take much more of this. His body was suddenly flooded with adrenaline and he could feel his blood pressure exploding, but almost as soon as his new-found energy appeared, it disappeared and he felt his entire body go limp.

Despite what he felt, his mind apparently didn't listen to the rest of his body. He felt as if his own body was trying to force him to stand up and intervene in the conflict before him.

He wasn't entirely certain how he did it, but he did eventually stand up. He pushed the crates out of his way and stumbled like a zombie over to the harsh man and heavy-hearted grandmother cradling her deceased grandchild like an infant.

If the others were talking or yelling at him he did not or could not hear them. If he knew that he was in a train car, he would have thought he was frozen in ten foot thick ice.

When he finally approached Jerome, he didn't realize he tall he really was, either that or his hunger was much more severe than he thought. It took all of the little strength he had left in him just to lift up his arm and reach for his neck.

Jerome, however, didn't really feel like allowing the small, frail extraterrestrial to be anywhere near him. He swatted him away like a bug and he hit the wall like a mace being brought down on a person's skull. The impact knocked him out instantly.

Pierre, Julio, Kyle, Carla, and even Aaron all came up to the senseless, skeletal alien and started to beat him. They beat him to the point where he would surely be dead if he were conscious and tried to fight back.

Slade had been sitting back drinking his beer and smoking a cigar while most of this was taking place. He couldn't help but grin when Xilo suddenly stood up and made his way over the druggie and his grieving mother-in-law. He frowned when the druggie easily sent him flying against the wall. But it was when the other five druggies started to beat him without rhyme nor reason that he snapped.

He took out a glock handgun from his bag and walked up behind them, if Jerome saw him he obviously didn't care about them. Jordan, however, did notice and said nothing, perhaps she thought he felt like dispersing some justice.

He tapped the back of Kyle's head with the barrel of the gun. He turned his head only for a cloud of smoke to be blown in his face and to have the gun pointed right in between his eyes. He stopped his abuse and backed away when he cocked the safety trigger with his thumb.

The others stopped what they were doing and turned around when Kyle backed away. At first, they stood their ground and continued to badly batter the motionless alien. But they too soon backed away when a warning shot was fired at the wall in front of them.

When they were out of his way, he carefully picked up the child and went back to where they had been for these past weeks. He looked down at him and just couldn't help but notice the severity of the injuries on his face and hands, the only ones he could see. He could only imagine the extent of the other injuries, both physical and psychological.

V-X-V-X-V

**(A/N: Not gonna lie, I cried while writing the last fifteen paragraphs. **:(

**If you guys cried too, I don't blame you. I said it was going to get dark, but even I didn't expect this. Just so you, the dark themes will be continuing throughout the rest of this story and I promise it will only get darker as this progresses.**

**This might be a bad time to say this, but I see a lot of "Hellboy" parallels. In case you guys don't know Ron Perlman, who voices Slade in the show, portrayed Hellboy in the 2004 and 2008 movies. I really like those movies and I decided to come up with a way to put the personalities of the main characters in this. It's something that I do with a lot of my stories.**

**So, what do you guys think? Do you think I'm doing a bad job or a good job? I would really like to hear this feedback. So, please leave a review this time, seriously.)**


	5. Chapter 5

**(A/N: It's been awhile since I've updated this story and I apologize for that. I've just been busy with life and other stories.**

**Anyway, in this chapter, the relationship between Xilo and Slade will begin to develop more than in the previous chapter. I have a feeling that I will start crying while writing this at some point.**

**Warning: Death and mental illness in this chapter.)**

**0**-X-V-X-**0**-X-V-X-**0**

Darkness. That's all he saw. Coldness. That's all he felt. Nothing. That's all he heard.

He was unsure of how long he had been this way nor was he certain if he even wanted to know. Truthfully, he was too scared to be curious about his current state.

The pain had long since died out and was instead replaced with numbness. He could feel nothing on the inside, but the outside was all but cold.

At this point, he wondered if he was even alive anymore. If he was no longer living... he could care less. He would finally rejoin his family after many months.

Suddenly, he felt something vaguely familiar... on the side of his face. It was gentle and soothing. He knew what it was and was afraid of losing it.

It did eventually leave and he tried to reach for it, but when he couldn't see it, only feel, it was close to impossible. Soon, he was left with only a lingering feeling.

Next, he smelled something, something new. It smelled rustic and metallic. The rustic scent was of meat cooking in either boiling broth or water, it was slightly similar to common aromas he smelled during his time with Antoine and his family. The metallic scent was likely due to the containers the meat he smelt was sealed in, it was very faint and just barely noticeable.

The scent made his stomach growl in hunger. It was the first thing he heard in what may as well have been ages. It was also the only thing he could feel on the inside. He lifted his still arm and placed a hand on his stomach, he could not feel the movement of his arm or hand, only the pressure of his hand on his stomach and that could just barely be felt.

Soon, all of these new and familiar senses left and he was left with the lingering effects, which died out quickly. Everything seemed to be going back to the way it was before. Was that a good thing or a bad thing? He didn't care either way.

"...lo... X..l... you... wake… now."

'What?' he thought, this single thought echoing in his mind.

Where was that voice coming from? There was no one or anything near him and yet...

"Time... wake…"

There it was again. Where was it coming from? He wanted to know the answer.

Just as he was trying to figure out where it was coming from, the voice grew impatient. His body was suddenly being shook, gently, though it was still alarming. He was shaken again, it was still gentle yet it was slightly rougher than the previous one.

"X...lo... time... up."

The voice was telling him to wake up. Was it time? Should he awaken to an uncertain world? He was conflicted. One part of him was saying, "No, not yet. You still need to rest. Awaken when you wish to, not when others tell you to." The other part of him was saying, "Yes, it is time. You have rested long enough. You must awaken eventually."

The final decision was not difficult, he knew what must be done. It was time for him to wake up.

* * *

Slade had tried numerous times to awaken the sleeping alien, but to no avail. He couldn't exactly blame him though, he was skin and bone and had been beat senseless.

With Alexander dead and Jordan heartbroken and grieving even after several weeks, there was a lot more food to be spared. It wasn't much, but it was something and it was better than nothing.

Then, he heard something, it was weak, but it sounded so familiar that he knew what it was. It was the sound of someone groaning.

He looked down and saw Xilo squirming, it was the first time he had made any movement since his coma. He knew what it meant, he was finally waking up.

It took awhile, but he eventually opened his large red eyes. He took a look around and grimaced when he came into contact with a foul odor.

"Why does it smell of corpses?" he asked through a hand that was clamped over his flat nose and mouth.

"Not long after your coma, there was a sudden snowstorm. The train's been going at a snail's pace ever since," he explained. "They haven't been able to dump the kid's body and his grandmother won't let them."

While he was explaining this, he idly noted that he was being held in his arms. The way he was held was not so different from the way Jordan held her grandson's dead body.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

He wasn't exactly sure how to answer that because he was entirely sure how to vocalize it correctly. He eventually gave him an answer, "I feel... uncertain." It was the only way he could describe how he was feeling.

He nodded and helped him into a seated position, though he was still partially lying down. In this position he could see where the smell was coming from. It was coming from a small pot over a camper stove with steam coming out of it.

He lifted it and brought it over to them, he tilted it to show him the contents. It was barely an eighth full and it was made up of either pork or beef along with carrots and green vegetables that he couldn't identify. All of it was submerged in a broth.

Slade brought the pot to his lips and drank a small portion of the soup. He brought the rest of it to him, "The rest is yours."

"What about you?" he asked.

He shook his head, "I've had my fill and you're skin and bone."

He decided not to argue with him and took the pot from him. He brought to his mouth and it was gone in a single gulp. He was hungrier than he thought, he mused, he just hoped he would be able to keep it down this time.

"How long was I asleep?" he questioned.

"Three weeks," he replied.

"Do you have any more books for me to read?" he asked.

He checked his bag for anything he hasn't read yet, "No, you've read all of them."

"Can you teach me vocabulary?" he asked again.

"Vocabulary?" he questioned. "Why?"

"Combine words," he told him.

He looked at him questionably, "'Combine words?'"

"Do not. Would not. I am," he tried his best to explain.

It took him a few minutes before he finally seemed to understand, "Contractions? You want to learn about contractions?"

He nodded, "Why do people use them? I want to learn."

Slade spent the next few hours explaining to him what contractions were and why and how they were used as best he could. He started off with the basics, 'I'm' instead of 'I am' and 'isn't' instead of 'is not.'

In spite of how much Xilo enjoyed learning, he doubted he would be able to remember much of this. He knew he was doing his best, but he knew that he was a better martial instructor than an English teacher.

Before long, night fell and everyone, including the six "druggies", was asleep. Everyone but one that is. Jordan had not slept since the day Alexander had died and it was beginning to take its toll on her mental stability.

"Fire!" she suddenly shouted, startling everyone awake. "I see fire!"

Xilo woke up with a jump and nearly jabbed Slade with his antenna. He idly noticed how they were in a similar position to how they were earlier.

He looked up at him nervously, "Sorry."

He glanced down, "You're fine."

She continued to rant hysterically about a fire, though from what Xilo could see, smell, and hear, there was no such thing. Not only that, but his antenna sensed no danger, though they have been _undependable_ lately; he was unsure of what to believe at this point.

Jerome stood up and looked outside, but saw nothing except for the pitch black darkness. He slapped her, "Crazy bitch, there's nothin' out there!"

"But there is!" she insisted. "Fire! It comes for us!"

He slapped her again, it was enough to send her and the corpse of her grandson to the floor, "There's nothin' comin' for us!"

"Slade, do you think she really sees something?" Xilo asked innocently.

"I don't think so," he replied flatly.

"Will she be alright?" he asked again in the same way.

"I don't think so," he repeated in the same way.

Over the next few days, she continuously shouted of the flames coming to devour us and each time she did so, she was beaten senselessly until she could no longer stand. There were times where he wondered if there really were flames from the fabled abyss from far below the Earth's surface.

She refused to eat anything, so her portions went to him and Slade. He gave most of his food to him so that he could regain his lost body mass. Though he was a long way from feeling a hundred percent, he was finally starting to regain his strength and was able to stand under his own power.

There were many events these few months that he would never forget. However, this next event would be forever imprinted in his memory.

Early one morning, less than an hour before dawn, they finally came to a stop after nearly a month with Alexander's decomposing body. He was awoken by Jordan screaming at the top of her lungs.

"No! Please, no take him!" she cried.

"He's dead and nobody wants him here!" Pierre shouted.

"Give him up already!" Kyle yelled.

When she still refused to give him up, they did the unthinkable. Jerome, Pierre, Kyle, and Julio started to kick, punch, and beat her with anything they could find.

He watched with horror as blood splattered all over the walls, floor, and ceiling. It was like watching a lame animal being culled. He buried his face into Slade's chest, unable to watch any longer.

In response to this, he instinctively embraced the alien child protectively. He knew that he shouldn't allow himself to become close to him, but he reminded him so much of his own children that he couldn't help himself.

When it was all over, her body looked like it had been submerged in acid before being covered with a bucket of blood. There was so much blood that had been spilled that it almost looked as if it had been painted on the surfaces it was splattered on.

Once they were satisfied, they dragged the bodies out of the boxcar and dragged them to a wooded area surrounding the station. He removed himself from his chest and watched as they left her in the snow and wrapped a rope around the little boy's neck. They threw the rope over a tree branch and hoisted his body up in the air with the use of a stick and rock to create a makeshift pulley system.

His heartbeat accelerated drastically, so much so that he was certain it would tire itself out and take him along with it. The sight caused a rush of multiple emotions to flow through his bloodstream at speeds that correspond with his heart rate.

They got back onto the train, though he did not acknowledge them nor when they addressed him. He either didn't hear them or just simply refused to acknowledge the group of murderers.

The sun began to rise over the horizon and illuminated the corpses. They looked so dead and lifeless yet the sunlight seemed to give them an aura of lingering life.

He thought he heard a gruff voice grumble, "Finally got rid of those goddamn liabilities."

"_God_," he heard a deep voice speak, startling him. This voice was foreign, but sounded vaguely familiar for reasons he can't explain. He fell to the wooden floor and shook his head.

Slade went over to him and helped him up, "Are you feeling alright?"

"_God_," the voice repeated. He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head again.

"Do you hear that?" he asked frantically.

"Hear what?" he questioned.

"That voice," he responded, his breathing beginning to grow ragged.

"Calm down," he patted his back gently, "I think it's just because seeing something like that is a little hard for someone to take."

"No, I am serious!" he vociferated.

He pulled him into another embrace and rubbed his back. It was soothing and he thought he could finally relax.

That is until he heard the voice again, this time much louder and angrier, "_God!_"

He pushed him away and started panting heavily and irregularly. He fell to the floor and crawled to his corner like a scared little animal. He curled up into a ball and trembled.

Slade wanted to help him - he really did - but he had no idea how. There were times when his own children had acted in a similar way, but it was normally when it had to do with school, not hearing things. His parental instincts told him to comfort him, but he doubted that it was what he wanted while in that state. He felt conflicted.

Xilo held his head and trembled as "God" was repeated over and over again. While he wanted it to stop, at the same time he wanted to know exactly who or what "God" is.

'What is "God"?' he asked in his thoughts.

"_Not what, who_," the voice told him.

'Who is God?' he questioned.

"_Excellent question_," the voice started, almost tauntingly, "_but first we must ask where He is._"

He was beginning to grow frustrated yet curious, 'Where is he then?'

"_Simple. He is outside_," it replied, amused.

He was not amused, not at all, and was fed up with the cryptic speech. However, he knew that if he started an argument with it there was a chance it could cost him his life.

Nevertheless, he complied with what he was told and looked out the window, but all he saw were the corpses. He was confused, who or what was he looking at?

'What is this? A joke?' he questioned harshly and sarcastically.

"_No!_" it snapped, causing him to shake his head and blink rapidly as his eyes began to water. "_Keep looking. He is out there!_"

He looked again and noticed how the sunlight was no longer shining on Jordan, but it now shined solely on Alexander. It almost made him look... divine. So, was he really this "God"? Were they the same person? Was "God" even a person at all?

These were a lot of questions that he wanted answers to, but the voice wasn't talking. He had a feeling that it left and wouldn't be coming back for a while, if ever.

Then, suddenly, the voice came back to say one last thing, "_He is God. A sad death, but not unavoidable. You could compare it to... a fire._"

His eyes widened, Jordan had been shouting about a fire in the couple of days before her death. Was she somehow predicting that something like _this_ would or was about to happen shortly?

The train began to move and he looked outside for the last time and watched as they slowly drifted away. It was a sad sight, but, like the voice had said, "not unavoidable."

The sunlight illuminated the snow, giving it a soft yellow, orange, and gold glow. The light on the snow combined with the light on the boy's body gave it a divine and fiery look. Breathtaking, but heartbreaking.

With his head hung in sadness and respect he stood up and went over to Slade. He curled up next to him and closed his eyes with tears streaming down his face.

He was surprised by his actions, but carefully picked him up and wrapped his arms around him. The rhythm of his heartbeat was just the lullaby he needed to relax and rest.

**0**-X-V-X-**0**-X-V-X-**0**

**(A/N: Oh, man, I never thought I would be able to finish this. This was so sad and I genuinely wanted to cry and I was so close to tears at so many points in this. If you cried too, I don't blame you. **:(

**I know this may be a bad time to say this, the next chapters of "Against All Odds" and "No More Chains" are in the works. It might take a little while before they're finished, but what are you gonna do?)**


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